


Focus

by sprucetree



Category: Star Trek: Lower Decks (Cartoon)
Genre: Boimler makes it awkward, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Photographs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29784099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sprucetree/pseuds/sprucetree
Summary: Mariner finds an old picture of herself from when she was on the Quito.
Relationships: Brad Boimler/Beckett Mariner
Comments: 8
Kudos: 14





	Focus

**Author's Note:**

> I challenged myself to write a short story for these two in exactly 1k words (no more and no less) to see if I could. This was the result.

Boimler sat in bed with his legs folded underneath him, half of his mind focused on the hum of the warp core floors below them and the other half on the applications for various positions on other ships as he mindlessly scrolled on his PADD. Huh, interesting. He hadn’t remembered this many open for Jersey Class ships when he last checked. Was it possible that since then Starfleet had added a new--

Above him, he heard a small groan, just barely audible in the crowded ensigns’ quarters.

Boimler stopped mid-scroll. Intrigued by the noise enough to poke his head out of his bunk, he stared directly upward at Mariner, who was lying on her back also reading her PADD. Instead of her usual amused expression, she seemed downright annoyed. Her dark eyebrows were furrowed together as she stared directly at whatever was on-screen.

“It’s nothing, Boimler,” she muttered before he could say a word. Her eyes never left the PADD.

“No, really, what was it? You sounded pretty annoyed.” 

Sensing he wouldn’t leave her alone until he got an answer, she dramatically rolled her eyes and spat out, “Just old pictures from… ugh.” 

Suddenly squeezing her eyes shut and rolling over so her face was muffled in her pillow, she groaned even louder. “I looked  _ so _ dorky back then,” he heard her mutter as she drew the last word out in a frustrated moan. 

“What?” Boimler stood up, his head now level with the edge of her bunk. His interest was piqued. After all, ever since he had known her, she had pretty much looked the same. Well, the uniform was a given since everyone had to wear it but… everything else about her seemed the same. “I doubt it. Let me see.” 

“Oh, what, so you can laugh at me? Yeah, no way.” 

Of course, her words only had the opposite effect on him-- making him more and more interested in what exactly was so embarrassing about this picture. Knowing Mariner, she was overexaggerating anyway. “Seriously?” Narrowing his eyes, he added disbelievingly, “I doubt it’s as bad as you’re making it out to be.”

“It's worse,” she replied dryly, finally turning around to meet his gaze. “For real.” 

“Try me.” Putting out one hand, he motioned for her to hand the PADD over to him. “Promise I won’t laugh. Scout’s honor.” Just to show he was being honest, he primly crossed his pointer and middle fingers on his right hand and put them over his chest.

His reassuring gesture seemed to have the opposite effect on Mariner, since she scoffed and rolled her eyes as he did it, amused but irritated. But, reluctantly, she leaned over in her bunk and tilted the bright screen just enough for him to see, not entirely trusting him to hold the device himself.

On-screen, a slightly younger version of Mariner stared back at him. In place of the Cerritos’ uniform, she had on a different dark gray, red, and black Starfleet uniform, her single pip shining proudly in the light from what seemed like a docking station outside on a planet somewhere. Pale beams of sunlight wrapped around her face, making her stand out against the shades of red and orange in the sky in the background. Curled out in all directions and framing her face perfectly was her dark brown hair, looking looser and freer than he had ever seen it. But what his eyes were instantly drawn to was her smile: bright and wide, full of unabashed joy. There was a sense of eagerness as well-- maybe for the future, maybe for whoever was taking the photo, maybe even for her job. 

He had never seen her smile like that before.

Boimler had every intention of making a quick comment to let her know it wasn’t bad at all-- it was very much the  _ opposite _ of bad-- and looking back up, but suddenly he found himself unable to tear his eyes from the screen. 

Mariner watched him intently for a few seconds, her face a picture of stoicism as she took in his reaction. Then, she finally spoke up again, voice dripping with scorn. “See? I looked--”

“Gorgeous.” 

Boimler instantly froze in place when he realized what had just slipped out of his mouth in the heat of the moment. It wasn’t even a dignified slip, since he had practically whispered the word. Not that that mattered, since she had obviously heard it loud and clear.  _ Dammit. _ He could feel his cheeks heating up. 

To her credit, Mariner reacted pretty quickly. Scoffing once, she pulled the PADD away and casually pushed the home button. Watching as the screen went black, she tossed it onto the foot of her bed with the casual disregard of someone throwing away a food wrapper. 

“Well, ok, you don’t have to lie, Boims. I’m sure you’ve taken plenty of dorky pictures yourself,” she retorted in a low voice. Strangely enough, she was avoiding eye contact with him, instead choosing to examine her carefully pushed-down nail beds while speaking. 

“I-- that was-- your hair looked really good in that style,” he finished lamely, wincing at his last-minute compliment that he had attempted to say in order to save the conversation.  _ Way to make it  _ more _ awkward,  _ he thought to himself, preparing himself for the incoming teasing. 

Instead, Mariner just shrugged. “It was like, six years ago now. Styles change.” 

“I… yeah, true.” There wasn’t much more to say in reply.

There was a moment of silence between them, both watching as everyone else talked amongst themselves and got ready for bed around them. Finally, Mariner spoke up.

“Well, didn’t mean to interrupt you from whatever weasel activities you were working on. I think I’m gonna turn in for the night.” 

Taking the cue, Boimler slipped back into his bunk and settled in, not looking back up. “Night.” 

What he couldn’t tell from his position below was that a small, quiet smile was steadily growing on Mariner’s face.

**Author's Note:**

> In case that one part wasn't super clear, I was trying to describe her look in this flashback: 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9vPbUwKNkqc&t=33s


End file.
